


The Voodoo Man

by a_quick_drink



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, a dash of Kegger, voodoo au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 20:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3950470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the gris-gris bag he bought leaves him unlucky in love, Kelly makes another visit to the voodoo man for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Voodoo Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lihllith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lihllith/gifts).



At a cafe table shaded from the morning sun, Kelly peered over the rim of his coffee cup at the woman seated a few tables away. Eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, he watched as she lifted the cup to pouty lips. No sooner had the cup reached her lips when a man also dressed in an NOPD uniform pulled a chair out opposite her and sat down. Pausing, she flashed the man a brilliant smile Kelly could only wish was directed at him.

Kelly frowned and averted his gaze. He’d noticed the woman a few weeks ago, always sitting at the same table, always enjoying her coffee alone before a fellow officer joined her. As of recently, said officer was a tall man with broad shoulders. His auburn curls glinted like copper in the sunlight, and he carried himself like one of those swaggering lawmen from the westerns Kelly loved.

He watched as the two cops stood and walked past his table. The man cast him a quick glance, but the woman didn’t seem to notice him. The rare times she did it always felt like a friendly acknowledgement between two people who frequented the same place around the same time. Nothing more. He’d thought of countless ways to strike up a conversation with her, but was never able to muster the courage to act before she left.

Shifting in his seat, Kelly rested a hand over the pocket containing the tiny gris-gris bag he’d gotten from the voodoo man. Word was that Garrigou was the man to talk to if one needed the aid of voodoo, so why wasn’t the gris-gris bag working? Maybe he just needed to give it more time.

Kelly gave the bag two more weeks. In that time he’d attracted a woman with no concept of boundaries, a drag queen he was now friends with, and a stray dog that was eating him out of house and home. But whenever he spotted the woman at the cafe the result was always the same-–nothing. Her partner kept looking, though, and Kelly figured he may as well add the guy to his list of people he hadn’t intended to attract.

Clutching the bag in his hand, Kelly strode down the narrow street to Garrigou’s shop. He’d spent good money on the worthless thing, assured by friends that Garrigou was the real deal. Instead he had a fifty dollar bag of junk he could’ve made himself for a fraction of the cost with the same results. He should’ve known better than to trust some charlatan. Odds were good he wouldn’t be able to get any of his money back, but he had to try if only to make himself feel better.

The smell of incense bombarded Kelly’s senses when he pushed open the weathered door. Coughing, he waved his hand in front of his face to clear the air as he stepped into the shop. He glared at the collection of tribal masks on the wall and stopped at the counter.

Kelly spotted Garrigou in a back room, seated across from a woman. The table between them was set with various objects Kelly hadn’t seen during his session. As he watched, the voodoo man set a doll-shaped piece of paper on a plate and sprinkled it with something. He touched a candle to the center of the doll and the cutout burst into flame, illuminating Garrigou’s wicked grin. A shiver rolled up Kelly’s spine.

Garrigou followed the woman out of the room several minutes later. She turned and he took her hands in his much larger ones, wishing her luck. Once she was gone, he turned to Kelly, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re back.”

Same as the first time, Kelly noted the voodoo man’s broad torso was covered only with a brightly patterned vest that showcased muscular arms. The guy must spend as much time in a gym as he did conjuring spirits. A wooden pendant secured by a leather cord rested at his throat, this one in the shape of an animal Kelly couldn’t recognize. The overall effect still unsettled him, although Kelly wasn’t sure why.

“Because this didn’t work.” Kelly held up his hand, the tiny bag dangling from a finger. “I did everything you told me to do and nothing.” Unless invisibility counted because he was _so_ getting his money’s worth of that.

“Bullshit,” Garrigou drawled, crossing his big arms over his chest. To Kelly’s surprise, the guy didn’t sound offended. Which was good because even if that stupid bag hadn’t worked for him, there was no saying the guy couldn’t call up some spirits to punish him. Or maybe the voodoo man would just beat the shit out of him. He did look like he could crush the skulls of annoying customers with his bare hands.

Before he could request a refund, Garrigou motioned for Kelly to follow him to another room. Kelly glanced nervously around as he took his seat. This one was smaller than the room he’d been in before. There were no jars or vials lining the walls, only dark paint and more of those creepy tribal masks that he swore were watching him.

Plucking the bag from Kelly’s hand, Garrigou narrowed his eyes as he studied it. He unwrapped the string that held the bag shut and emptied the contents onto the table, using a finger to sort through the odds and ends. “This is everything that should be in it.” His face twisted into a frown.

Kelly drew a sharp inhale when the man grabbed his chin and leaned in so their faces were only inches apart.

Under the scrutiny of those dark eyes, Kelly suddenly felt a flush creep up his neck. The voodoo man was good looking, all tall and muscular; kind of reminded him of that cop. But what he saw in this guy’s eyes was a warmth and intensity that reminded him of a fire blazing out of control. _Too hot to handle._ And the longer Garrigou stared at him, the more uneasy Kelly felt. Those eyes weren’t just looking at him, they were looking _into_ him. His soul itself laid bare for this man and he was powerless to stop it.

“That’s why,” Garrigou muttered. The pad of his thumb brushed over Kelly’s lower lip, sending a bolt of electricity shooting through him. Kelly’s lips parted as he puffed out a breath, earning him a knowing smile from the voodoo man. “Your heart’s confused,” Garrigou explained as his finger continued stroking Kelly’s lip. “I made that bag for you thinking it was to attract a woman you desired. I was mistaken.”

Kelly swallowed thickly when the man released him. “I–I’m not gay,” he protested.

“Didn’t say you were, _bon ami_.” Garrigou stood. He planted his hands on the table between them and leaned in close enough that Kelly could feel warm breath against his skin as the man spoke. “But there’s a curiosity in you just aching to be set free.” He traced the hard edge of Kelly’s jaw with his nose. Voice nearly a growl in Kelly’s ear, Garrigou asked, “Am I wrong?”

Kelly bit back a whimper, a moment too late if the glimmer in Garrigou’s eyes was any indication. “N–no,” he whispered.

And just like that the voodoo man was gone, leaving Kelly alone in the room. He rubbed at his arms, trembling as he was forced to face the one thing he kept hidden from everyone-–himself included. How Garrigou had detected it was beyond him.

It wasn’t entirely fear that kept Kelly from acting on his secret desire. At least that’s what he always told himself anyway. No man had caught his interest enough to bother exploring–-exposing–-that side of himself. Except for that cop. Garrigou, too, if he was being completely honest with himself.

When Garrigou returned he was carrying a silver tray loaded with vials and bowls and a variety of objects Kelly assumed would go into another gris-gris bag. Garrigou balanced the tray on one hand while he laid everything out on the table. He set the tray aside and sat down, arranging a bowl each of water and dirt, a candle, and a stick of incense in the vague shape of a cross. He lit both the candle and incense.

Kelly sat in silence, patient, watching as Garrigou went through the motions of preparing the new bag. The man picked up a dried chili pepper and waved it through the smoky haze of the incense before placing it in the bag and repeating the process with the next item, a quill of cinnamon. A bay leaf followed, and Kelly spotted a dried rosebud as well. Then a small tan feather from a bird Kelly couldn’t guess, and a chunk of pink stone with black streaks.

Garrigou handed him a pen and a slip of parchment paper, which Kelly wrote his name upon. The voodoo man wasted no breath explaining but Kelly remembered: the handwritten name would link the bag to him as well as provide another item that would bring the count to an uneven number.

Once cleansed with incense, the paper joined the rest of the seemingly random items. Garrigou murmured what sounded like a psalm to Kelly’s ears, and anointed the contents with drops of fragrant oil. He handed Kelly the bag and directed him to breathe into the bag-–to give it life–-before taking it back and tying it shut with a piece of twine. The scent of roses and cinnamon lingered in Kelly’s nose, along with a richer, more complex scent. Red wine perhaps?

The voodoo man grinned and handed the bag to Kelly. “If this doesn’t work, you come back to see me, okay?” Garrigou winked, his booming laugh echoing through the shop as Kelly scurried from the room and out the door.

On the street, Kelly’s heart hammered in his chest as he stared at the new gris-gris bag in his hand. Would this one work? And if it did, what would happen? There was no doubt in Kelly’s mind that this one was designed to attract men. Did he even want to use this?

Kelly shoved the bag in a pocket. No need to decide right this minute. He’d go home and consider the voodoo man’s words before doing anything absurd. Then again, the fact he was even relying on someone like Garrigou was already plenty absurd.

Shaking his head at himself, Kelly turned the corner and slammed into someone else. Strong hands gripped his shoulders, steadying him as he spluttered an apology. Glancing up at the person he’d walked into, Kelly’s breath caught as he saw familiar green eyes staring back at him. “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was going.” The man smiled and righted Kelly’s sunglasses. 

It took Kelly’s brain roughly three seconds to catch up. Once it did, though, he felt his face heat with the realization he’d spent the entire time staring slack-jawed at the man he now recognized as that cop. And, oh God, the guy was talking to him. Smiling. _At him._ He’d never got a good look at the man but now that he had, he somehow couldn’t tear his eyes away. Was this the voodoo?

“Hey, I know you.” The man’s easy smile widened into a grin, and Kelly swore he’d melt right there if the guy didn’t dial the intensity down. “You’re that guy from the cafe, right?”

Kelly waggled his fingers at the guy. “Hi?“ The man licked his lips, and Kelly allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to kiss another man. _This_ man.

“So, uh, I keep meaning to ask you this but… Would you be interested in grabbing drinks some time?”

“I–I’d like that.” Kelly offered him a shy smile, and the man huffed a sigh of relief. Had this guy also been waiting all these weeks to make a move?

They exchanged contact information, and Kelly walked back to his place, dazed. He had a date. With a guy. And oddly enough, he felt a faint thrill at the idea. Kelly bit his lip against a goofy grin.

Maybe he’d have to visit the voodoo man again after all-–to thank him.


End file.
